


String Lights

by Meilan_Firaga



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Fics - 2017 [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/pseuds/Meilan_Firaga
Summary: A string of Christmas lights has been doodled on Stephen's schedule, and apparently they mean he's booked for the entire evening.25 Days of Christmas Fics 2017 - Prompt 2 - Festival of Lights





	String Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been to New York City. Everything about Washington Square Park I learned through the magic of Google. Probably horribly inaccurate.
> 
> Day 2 of my 2017 attempt (maybe this year will succeed!) at 25 Days of Christmas Fics.
> 
> Prompt 2: Festival of Lights

When Darcy Lewis appeared on the Sanctum’s doorstep, Stephen had not expected the quirky young woman to become an integral part of his life. She’d arrived with nothing more than a letter and the card he’d left in Loki’s place on a New York street when Thor had last been on the planet. He had no idea how she’d obtained either, as he’d kept a close eye on the Asgardians while they were on Earth and knew that none of them had happened to swing by a post office. Nonetheless, there was an out of work professional intern standing at his front door holding a letter of introduction signed by the heir to the Asgardian throne, and she’d been adamant that he was stuck with her. 

By that December, no one in the New York Sanctum could fathom how they’d ever survived without her. She knew everyone by name, made the best cookies, and had flat out revolutionized the organization and cataloging of both the library and the collection of relics. The relics even  _ liked her _ . She somehow managed to greet everyone who came by within the first five minutes of their arrival no matter where they’d chosen to appear, and she kept an impeccable master schedule and appointment book for every imaginable goings-on tied to the place.

It was that appointment book that brought Stephen pause on one of the first snowy days of December. Darcy’s appointment book was more of a handmade ledger than anything else. It was written on large sheets of graph paper kept together in an enormous binder. Each day was given a two-page spread to accommodate all of the information she included. There were special places for notes like moon phases, planetary movements, and various phenomena, but the main focus was a list of hours down the left hand side and the columns stretching out to the right. There was a column for each person in residence at the Sanctum that day, their appointments neatly arranged with wordy detail and color coded ink. That day, Stephen’s column had several hours blocked off starting just before sundown and going until after ten p.m., which Darcy insisted was supposed to be his “bedtime.” Instead of words for an explanation, a red box filled with a curling string of Christmas lights had been drawn over the hours. A similar doodle covered Darcy’s column for the same time period.

He found her in the kitchen making an obscene amount of pancakes. A couple of acolytes--either early risers or the sleepless--were already gathered at the island, chatting about their studies as Darcy kept their plates full and smiled at them encouragingly. He’d barely stepped into the room when she shoved a plate into his hands, hip checking him toward an empty stool closest to the stove where she was working.

“Morning, Schmendrick,” she quipped, her arm brushing against his as she set a steaming cup of coffee on the counter in front of him. 

He settled onto the stool she’d indicated, noting with amusement that she’d dotted his pancakes with blueberries without having to be asked. “Are you ever going to run out of fictional magicians to name me after?” he asked, liberally dolloping whipped cream from an open container onto his breakfast. 

“Probably not,” Darcy admitted, already engrossed in flipping pancakes again.

“Mind telling me why there’s a box of Christmas lights blocking off my entire evening today?”

“You’re taking me to the Tree Lighting ceremony in Washington Square Park tonight.”

That gave him pause. He looked over his shoulder at her, pointedly ignoring the very mild snicker one of the acolytes gave. She wasn’t behaving any differently than she ever had, still busying herself with the stove. “Is that right?”

“Yep.” She made a popping noise on the p, pausing in her cooking efforts long enough to toss him a saucy wink. “It’s a bunch of lights in trees and fun decorations. Right up my holiday loving alley.” She sauntered around the island with another plate and set it in an empty place just as a visiting sorcerer wandered in with a sleepy yawn. “I figure you’ve benefited plenty from me being here. It’s the least you can do, really.” She leaned over as she made her way past him again, brushing a quick, friendly kiss against his cheek. Stephen fought hard to keep his face from flushing a bright red, but no amount of fight hid the way the tremor in his hand increased alongside his heart rate. 

In the time that she’d been endearing herself to everyone that came by the Sanctum, Stephen and Darcy had spent many hours together. She fussed over him like he was some sort of wayward child, appearing daily with some magical instinct as to when he’d gone too long without food, water, or a brief respite from whatever he was absorbed in that day. They had coffee together most mornings, and she was usually the last person he saw in the evenings when she’d come to take a book out of his hands and bully him into going to bed on her way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He’d always been aware that Darcy was pretty, of course, but up until he’d felt the brush of her lips on his cheek it hadn’t been anything more than an observation. After, though… It was like her kiss had made something inside him sit up and pay attention. 

For the rest of the day, the hours seemed to drag. Even as time passed it felt as though that little red box and a trip to the park were further and further away. To make matters worse, Darcy didn’t so much as mention it when she brought lunch to his study or when he found an excuse to interrupt her afternoon work cataloging a few relics that had been unearthed in London. Finally, frustrated and feeling a touch of something that he was never going to admit was pure nerves, he buried himself in an ancient Norse text describing the Asgardians in their early visits to Earth. He was so determined to be absorbed in anything but his own thoughts that he completely missed the hour before his ‘appointment’ when he’d intended to get himself ready.

“Dude, you know I’m not letting you wander out into a public park dressed like that, right?” Darcy’s snarky quip startled him from his reading. He looked up to find her leaning against the door of his study. She was dressed in a pair of black knee-high boots with fur trim at their tops, cable-knit tights patterned in a galaxy print, an almost obscenely short black skirt, and a purple sweater that looked exceedingly soft.

Stephen’s mouth ran dry at the sight. “I’m sorry. I must have lost track of time.”

With a snort, Darcy waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. I learned forever ago to build buffer time into your schedule to compensate for you burying your head in one sandbox or another.” She practically skipped across the ornate rug and tugged the book from his hands. “Now, go take a quick shower and put on something a typical human would wear for a night out. No cloak, no crazy space rock in a giant necklace, and no Tibetan robes.” He didn’t bother to ask how she knew what was inside the Eye of Agamotto as he let her poke and prod him out of the study and down the hall to his room. He’d learned long ago not to ask where she learned about dangerous things.

It was less of a struggle than Stephen had expected to get the cloak to stay behind. He wasn’t sure when or how, but the flowing mass of fabric and Darcy seemed to have come to some sort of understanding on the subject. When he turned to explain that it was going to have to spend the night terrorizing someone else it practically flounced off to shadow some of the acolytes. If Stephen didn’t know any better--and he wasn’t entirely sure that he  _ did _ know better--he might even say that the cloak had been  _ smug _ as it left him standing at the top of the foyer stairs in his jeans, boots, and button down shirt.

Darcy was, of course, already waiting for him at the door when he started down the stairs. She’d donned a black coat and one of her seemingly endless supply of slouchy hats, and she was holding his coat over one arm. “Let’s go, Dresden,” she called up to him. “Places to be, lights to be dazzled by, and cocoa to drink!” He took his jacket from her arms as he came to stand at her side, quirking an eyebrow as he looked down at her.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

“Always so focused on the  _ why _ ,” she sighed, shaking her head at him as they made their way out the door and down the street. “Shut up and enjoy the experience.” Whatever additional protests he might have had died in his throat as she slipped her arm through his. Her gloved hands settled on his forearm. “You know, I’ve lived in New York since the whole alien elves descend on London experience and I’ve never made it out to a Christmas Tree Lighting.”

“I’ve been to a few of them,” Stephen admitted. “I’ve never really understood what all the fuss was about.”

“It’s the start of the season,” Darcy insisted, tilting her head briefly against his shoulder when they stopped to wait for the light at a crosswalk. “The most wonderful time of the year and all that. It’s a kick off party to the one time of the year when everyone gets to have a little magic in their life.”

When they began walking again, Stephen shifted his arm ever so slightly, drawing her just a bit closer to his side. “I suppose I’ve always taken the magic for granted,” he confessed quietly, leaning down so only she could hear him. “Even before I was the one making it.”

“Well, it’s time you learned to stop and smell the spirit!” She laughed, grinning up at him. “Lessons begin tonight, grumpy-pants.”

They made their way to Washington Square Arch, stopping on the way for two cups of cocoa. Cocoa in hand, Darcy tugged him into the shadows and doctored both of their cups with a bit of liquid from a flask she’d secreted away in her coat. (“Laced is the only way to drink cocoa, you know.”) Red-cheeked, laughing, and warmed by the combination of chocolate and bourbon they finally made their way to the outskirts of the crowd around the arch and its massive tree. Darcy fussed, tugging him by the arm until she was sure they were standing in the perfect spot.

Somehow, they’d still managed to arrive a little early. “Excellent!” Darcy enthused, pushing her nearly empty cup of cocoa into his hand as she dug into her pockets. “We’ll have plenty of time for a selfie.” 

“I’m not exactly a steady hand to hold a camera.” Stephen kept his voice light, but it didn’t stop the wave of insecurity that crept into his brain. The young woman next to him didn’t even hesitate, fishing her phone from her pocket and tugging one glove off with her teeth.

“Duh,” she snorted. “That’s why you’re holding the cocoa. Now get over here.” Stephen stepped a little closer and bent his knees enough to bring him down nearer to her height. Darcy crowded herself into his personal space, leaning so close feel the brush of her hair against his cheek. “Say cheese!”

He didn’t say cheese, but he did smile. When her phone camera clicked and the image of their faces froze on the screen he couldn’t help but think that they looked like they were together. For the first time since Hong Kong, he felt like maybe he could carry the weight of the world and even a little happiness, too.

“Oh, that turned out great!” She was away from him in a flash, quick fingers tapping across her phone’s screen. She retrieved her cocoa from his hand and dropped the phone back in her pocket. “Totally putting that on Instagram later.”

The ceremony was minutes from starting, and a flutter of nerves danced through Stephen’s stomach. Darcy hadn’t made a move to resume holding onto him as she’d done for most of the night, but he couldn’t imagine not continuing to have contact with her. Steeling his nerves with a not-so-gentle reminder that he’d faced down Dormammu, he channeled a bit of energy to steady his hand and twined his fingers with hers. 

Without turning to look at him, Darcy frowned.

His stomach clenched, the small hope he’d gained from the sight of their picture guttering out. He made to pull his hand away, but her grip only tightened. Sighing, she tugged his hand up to her eye level. “Don’t do that,” she told him, twisting her wrist to stare at the scars tracing over the backs of his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He tried once more to pull his hand away, but her grip was like iron. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

The look she gave him called him an idiot in several different languages. “Ignoring the fact that you should totally overstep more because, you know, yum.” She sighed, leaned forward, and pressed her lips firmly to the back of his hand. “Don’t spend your energy to keep them from shaking. The magic’s awesome, but I’d rather have you as you are.”

Stephen’s heart was pounding when he set his cup of cocoa on the ground beside them, their hands still clasped tightly together. The lights of the massive tree were coming on in his periphery when he pulled her close. His hands were shaking when he buried them in her hair. Every part of his soul was humming in happiness when he kissed her with everything he had.

After several, long moments they pulled apart, both panting a little.

“Was that overstepping enough?”

“I mean, you could always overstep more. Might want to head back to the Sanctum for that, though. Public indecency is supposedly frowned upon.”

Stephen had never been happier to be carrying a sling ring. 

 

**~*~*~*~**

 

Dimly, Darcy became aware of a cycle of faint colors from the corner of her eye. She tilted her head up from Stephen’s chest and inhaled sharply. Flickering across the canopy above the bed were a series of blinking multicolored lights. Bold primary colors blinked in and out over the canopy’s surface, casting the comforting glow of holiday memories over the bed. Stephen’s shaking hand entwined with hers on his chest and she snuggled closer.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.

“I thought you might like them.” His voice rumbled through his chest beneath her ear, the vibrations making her shiver almost as much as the ghost of his lips against her hair. His other arm tightened around her, pulling her closer against his side. “I never thought much of light shows before now. Have a feeling I’ll be thinking of them differently from now on.”

Darcy gave a faint huff of a laugh, tugging her hand from his in order to pull the covers further over them both. She shifted as she covered them, finally coming to rest straddling Stephen’s hips with the comforter around her shoulders. She propped herself up with the palms of her hands against the mattress on either side of his shoulders. Stephen smiled up at her, the cycle of colors above them playing across his face. When she leaned down to kiss him, the blinking continued to dance behind her closed eyelids.


End file.
